


The Horned Prince

by Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter is Loki (Marvel)'s Child, Intersex Loki, Luna be Lunaing, M/M, One Night Stands, Oops, Trouble In Paradise, nick fury is furious, vague Loki is vague
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:19:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9295949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener/pseuds/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener
Summary: Things only get more complicated for Harry when he discovers the truth behind his parentage.





	1. The Birthday Present

**Author's Note:**

> I squarely blame this fic on a friend of mine, lol.

August 3rd, 1980

James Potter and Lily Potter had been going through more than just a rough patch of their fledgling marriage. Without the knowledge of their friends and family, they had been separated for several months, now going on a year. James wouldn’t had been surprised that when they next met, that Lily would want to speak about divorce.

It was a miracle that she had taken him back instead.

The reason for their almost breakup had been so petty on his part, that he couldn’t figure out what had to had been going through his mind originally. There were so many solutions they could have explored, but he had simply… gone off. Granted it had been a shocker, but it was no excuse for how he had acted. Lily would have been right to leave him and to find someone better, someone who wouldn’t have cared.

Lily couldn’t bear children.

Of course he knew that it was no one’s fault, especially Lily’s. It happened sometimes, nature was like that. But he had said things he shouldn’t had in the heat of the moment. Lily had been right to feel betrayed and angry. That git Snape wouldn’t had cared that she couldn’t have kids, he would have asked what she needed from him.  
And why did he know what Snivellus would have said? 

When James had come to his senses during those lonely months, certain that Lily would never have him again, he had found someone for relief; a shoulder to cry on, someone who would laugh at his situation and who wouldn’t try to make him feel better, someone to punish himself with.

Loptr had been visiting from Scandinavia. He had stood out in the tavern, drinking an expensive wine he had somehow charmed out of the barkeeper while everyone else drank butterbeer. And if the curl of his legs under the counter was any indication, he was taller than he was. Not a lot of wizards were over six foot. His long silk hair had been blacker than midnight, his skin pale like snow, and his almond-shaped eyes were a green brighter than Lily’s. Loptr had also lacked all sympathy for James’s situation and he had boldly laughed about it over drinks with him. His silver tongue had soothed and lashed, and it would have chased off lesser men.

They had a fling for a while, and then they went their separate ways. James had always assumed the exotic man had gotten bored with him.

Then Lily had taken him back. He had vowed to become the best husband he could be. It even worked for a while, and it was a distant memory that he had almost lost her. They had been considering adoption after the war, perhaps becoming foster parents to war orphans, when an unexpected visitor appeared on their doorstep. 

Loptr had been cradling a tiny bundle in his arms. Lily had immediately invited him in for tea and fudge from Honeydukes.

“James dear, a friend of yours has come to see you. Don’t keep him waiting, I’m sure he means this to be a short visit. He has a darling newborn with him.” James couldn’t think who his wife could mean. He didn’t have any friends with newborns, not any that Lily wouldn’t also know about considering how isolated they had been for the last year. It had been months since they met anyone in person, even from the Order.

James left his study to see who it was. To say he was stunned would have been an understatement. “Loojer.” He always butchered the man’s name. James had no idea how the man had even found them. While their version of “gone into hiding” at the moment just meant they weren’t listed in the Wizarding pages, only a few others whom they trusted had been told their current temporary address.  
“Jay, or should I call you James?” The man was as exotic and tantalizing as ever. Even a simple question could be seen as flirting.  
“James, please.” James motioned to the couch for Loptr then sat across from the man on a loveseat. He glanced to the silent burden in the Scandinavian’s arms, curious.  
“He’s yours.”

“Ex-excuse me?” Hazel eyes were confused as he stared at Loptr and the sleeping baby.  
“Call your wife, she should hear this.”

Lily happened to be coming in with the tea and fudge at that time. “I hope this is to your liking,” she said pleasantly. “I’m assuming you’re here on business, so I’ll leave you boys to it.”  
“Have a seat, this involves you. It’s Order business.”  
“Oh, I had no idea.” She sat next to James, missing the moment her husband’s eyes narrowed in alarm. He knew Loptr was not part of the Order. How did he find out about it?

“During your separation, your husband and I had an affair. I trust he told you as much.” Loptr saw realization in the woman’s eyes then nodded before continuing. “The two of us were not honest with one another. I’m from an intersex race, and had I realized a union between us could be fruitful I would have taken precautions.” Loptr had to visibly keep himself from laughing at their expressions, if the shaking in his shoulders were any indication. The raven-haired man often snickered to himself like that when he and James had been together.

James swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob. “This…this is my child?”  
“Yes, he is yours, and you must take him before he is murdered or used as a means to an end. I ask this of you who serves the Order.”

 

~*Chapter 1: The Birthday Present*~

 

July 31st, 2000

It was one Harry Potter’s 20th birthday.

Early that morning, he had received a message from Gringotts Wizarding Bank that he had a time delayed package awaiting him. So after breakfast he went straight to Diagon Alley, curious to what it could be and from who, and on a time crunch because his friends had plans for him starting at the eleventh hour. Fortunately, they were meeting at the Leaky Cauldron. If the business didn’t take too long, he wouldn’t be late.

Gringotts hadn’t changed since he had last been there. He didn’t think it had changed since he had graduated from Hogwarts. He walked past the silver doors with their engraved warning for would-be thieves. He was quickly met by one of the many goblins who worked there, then he was taken the usual route via cart to the underground vaults. He held on for the rollercoaster ride, and as usual he thought it ended much too soon.

As the goblin waited for Harry to unlock the vault with his key, he explained what Harry was to expect. “Your parents paid to keep an important treasure locked away in a separate vault until your twentieth birthday. We placed it in here at midnight.”  
“What is it exactly?” Harry couldn’t think of what else his deceased parents could have wanted to give him. The vault was already filled with more money and treasures than he could ever hope to use.  
“A book.”  
“A book?” Harry didn’t receive a response. The goblin had already hopped back onto the cart and moved on. They didn’t bother keeping Aurors company, read as under watch, when they had other business to attend.

Harry shrugged and went inside. On the bright side, he could grab a few coins to make sure he had enough for his birthday celebrations, although he was sure the others wouldn’t allow him to pay for anything. In the least he wanted to be able to leave any necessary tips.

He saw the book sitting atop a pedestal that hadn’t been in the room before. The pedestal was a typical stone one that looked like his parents had bought it right there in Diagon Alley, but the book was something else.

It was a large tome the color of jade with gold-edged pages and gold engravings. He didn’t recognize the symbols, they appeared to be runes, but the motif in the center looked like a helmet with a pair of curved horns. He had never seen such a book, and with the number of hours Hermione had made him and Ron spend in the library back during their Hogwarts days and now at the Ministry of Magic, he had seen a lot. A lot, a lot.

It was surprisingly heavy for its size, but no matter what Harry did the book would not open. It was obviously enchanted, a quick spell confirmed that much. How was he supposed to open it? “I can stand here like an idiot until I figure it out, or I take it with me for Hermione to look at.” He knew which choice he preferred. After grabbing a small bag of coins, he left with his unusual gift.

He stopped off at Quality Quidditch Supplies to check out the new racing broomsticks. The Aerospace 360 from Cleansweep Broom Company was out, and it looked marvelous. It had the potential to usurp the Nimbus and Firebolt lines with its new breaking and acceleration system, putting the old company back in the spotlight. However, the Firebolt Excel and the Nimbus Revolution were supposed to be debuting soon. 

Perhaps he would treat himself to a new racing broom. Ginny would yell at him if she knew. She had only wanted him to get the new family brooms like something from the Bluebottle series.

Harry’s mood dropped a bit at his thoughts about his wife. They were separated at the moment, and she had moved back in with her parents. Looking back they both realized they had rushed into marriage, and the problems that kept springing up from not truly knowing each other had started taking their toll. He loved Ginny, and he had no problems with her physically, but for the last while they just hadn’t… meshed. Sometimes he had felt like he was living with a stranger.

He walked to the Leaky Cauldron with the book in his arms, ignoring the curious stares with practiced ease. Some he knew to be looking because they recognized him for who he was, and others were wondering about the fancy text that seemed to shimmer under the sunlight. He rather they stared at the book than him, but he hid it under his robes to limit the attention. He had had enough of staring since he was eleven.

‘The Boy Who Lived.’

He still hated that title. It wasn’t an accomplishment to live when its foundation was on top of someone else’s sacrifice. There had been so many sacrifices made in his name. Too many.

‘It’s your birthday. Congratulations on staying alive.’

His parents probably would have liked to have been able to give him this book themselves. They would have been able to tell him how to open it, too. Maybe if his parents were around he wouldn’t be having problems with Ginny. Everyone always said what a perfect marriage James and Lily Potter had.

But they were dead, and it didn’t matter what they would have wanted. They couldn’t do anything anymore.

He needed to think of something less upsetting.

“Harry!” He snapped his head up at his name. It was Hermione, waving to him from down the street. Luna was with her, looking as calm and dreamy as ever even as she wore a bright spangled dress in Gryffindor colors. He expected she would wear her Lionhead hat later.  
“Morning!” Harry plastered on a grin and waved back. All of his friends who could come had gathered today for him. He could at least be happy while they were all together.

The three of them made their way to the Leaky Cauldron, catching up with small talk, until Hermione caught Harry by the arm and stopped their progress. “Harry, are you okay?”  
“Of course I am, Hermione. Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“You look like you’re crying inside,” Luna said bluntly. A small smile quirked Harry’s lips. That was Luna for you, never one to beat around the bush.

“Is… Is Ginny there?” Harry finally asked.  
“Yes,” Hermione responded with a nod. “She came with George. She looks to be in a good mood, if that helps.”

Harry was conflicted for a moment. He wanted Ginny to be happy, but part of him hoped that she would be as… whatever he was about this whole mess that was their relationship.

“Yeah, thanks.” He shifted the text around to keep it from digging into his ribs. “There’s something I want us to look at later.”  
“Is it what you’re hiding in your cloak?” Luna asked with a faraway smile.  
“Uh, yeah,” Harry admitted. “It’s a present…from my parents.”  
“A time-delayed gift?” Hermione looked excited at the prospect. “Have you opened it yet?”  
“It’s a book.”

Hermione’s enthusiastic squeal could probably be heard in Knockturn Alley.

The Leaky Cauldron was filled to bursting with Harry’s friends and loved ones. The butterbeer flowed and there were snacks and treats galore. A table near the bar was piled up with colorful gift boxes and bags. Another table had a ginormous cake that seemed to only be held together by magic, much like the Weasley house. It was tilting in all kinds of ways to keep the decorations on the awkwardly arranged layers. It was a lot like waiting for a Jenga tower to collapse.

For the first hour Harry and Ginny didn’t say anything to each other beyond ‘hello’ but after a while Harry built up his nerve to break away from Ron, George, and Neville Longbottom to speak with her. “Hello, Ginny.”  
“Hi, Harry.” She was as beautiful as ever, and not for the first time, Harry wished he could figure out what was wrong with their relationship. “It’s a good party.”  
“Thanks. Ho-how have you been?” He mentally cursed at his nervous stutter. Wasn’t he too old to keep doing that?  
“I’ve been well enough.”  
“Me, too,” Harry admitted. It wasn’t like he couldn’t take care of himself after all. He had been doing that his entire life, but maybe that was the problem. Ginny wanted to take care of him, to mother him as the parents he had lost all too soon, but he didn’t want that.

Granted, he wasn’t totally sure what it was he wanted.

Thunderous pops and whistles abruptly went off, startling them from their sort-of-conversation. Then the both of them were grabbed by their friends to rejoin the festivities, and to be immediately covered in ribbons and puffballs. Harry and Ginny glanced to each other then laughed. It was the closest the boy-who-lived had felt to his wife since the separation.

Harry and Ginny found themselves mysteriously alone chasing down stray chocolate frogs by the bar counter as the party started winding down a couple hours later. The moment had probably been orchestrated by George and Ron who had exchanged entirely too many grins and winks between them just moments ago.

“Stay still, it’s in your hair,” Ginny warned while trying to sneak up on the magic chocolate. Harry did his best not to laugh, she looked so serious that it was funny. The corners of her mouth were twitching upwards. “Stop distracting me.”  
“I’m not,” Harry denied, just before he crossed his eyes and sucked in his cheeks. Ginny giggled and missed the frog.  
“Harry!” She smacked his shoulder playfully.  
“Oh! Got him!” A quick flick of his wrist and he caught the frog as it hopped off of Ginny’s shoulder.  
“Great catch.” She batted her long lashes and Harry responded with a lopsided grin.  
“Thanks.”

The frogs were rounded up and the rest of the party mess cleaned in short order. Harry was by the door, receiving final well wishes and goodbyes until it was just his closest friends left. George slapped the brunet on the back, and Harry suspected he stuck something there. “Great party, Harry, thanks to me of course.”  
“Of course, George.” They both laughed and Harry slipped a Bean Bomb in the redhead’s waistband when he turned away. It would go off next time he sat.

Catcalls from behind caught Harry’s attention. “Nice figure, Harry!” Dean Thomas laughed on his way out. Harry was able to see his reflection on a butterbeer mug that was still out. A parchment was running down his back depicting the body of a bikini-clad female wiggling her bum.  
“That wanker!” Harry knew George had pulled something. He better enjoy that Bean Bomb!

Hermione helped him get it off, while Ron snickered into a closed fist before bursting out into full laughter. He’ll give the redhead points for trying to hold it in.

“Oh, Ginny, just a moment!” Harry jogged over to where she was checking her travel robes.  
“It’s was a lovely party, Harry,” she responded with a bright smile. “I had a really good time. Congratulations on your twentieth.” Harry almost forgot what he was going to say.  
“I-I’m glad. Uh, we’re going to my flat for a while—that is Hermione, Ron, and I. Um, maybe Luna. Would you like to come too? We’re opening a book from my parents, hopefully opening. It’s spelled.” He was starting to ramble and made himself stop by clearing his throat.  
“I’d loved to, but I have to work in the morning. I should really be getting back.” Ginny brushed their hands together. “But I’d like to see it after it’s been sorted.”  
“R-right that… I’ll send Hedwig later.”

Harry sighed after she left with another ‘Happy Birthday.’

“It was a good try,” Luna commented in her serene tone. Her lion hat purred in sympathy. Ron patted his shoulder.  
“Don’t worry, Harry, she’s still sensitive about you-know-who’s journal. I think you did good today.”  
“Well, he did well,” Hermione corrected. “I’ve settled everything with the owner. We can leave now. Are you coming, Luna?”  
“Yes, I’m curious about this book. Perhaps your parents got a Springer Titan to lock it.”  
“What’s a Springer Titan?” Ron asked. Luna only gave him a grin, and her hat rumbled with amusement.

Harry’s apartment was an ordinary 600 square foot residence. Small even by British standards, but he didn’t need much space, and it was on the top of a twenty story building so had grand views.

Harry unhooked his table from the wall and enlarged it to full-size in the center of his living space, then he did the same for four chairs. Once those were settled in place he pulled the tome from his cloak, the item regaining its original size as well.

“Blimey, is that it?” Ron stared with round eyes at the fancy jade and gold. “Is that a coat of arms? I don’t recognize the family, is it an ancient Potter one?”  
“I’m not going to know, Ron.” Harry magicked up some tea to serve. Hermione sat in front of the text and began to examine it, Ron sat next to her. Luna took a chair at the end of the table, then she put her hat away inside her robes.

“What do you make of it?” Harry served the tea then took a chair across from Hermione.  
“I see why nothing worked, the enchantment is something I’ve only read about,” the bushy-hair witch informed. “This is a blood seal.”  
“That sounds ominous,” her husband commented.  
“It’s not so bad as that. Basically, only your blood can open it. Your parents must have made this not long after you were born.” She pointed to a notch at the top right corner for the cover. “See this? This nick is for you to prick your thumb, then the blood runs down the groove to release the seal.”

“How clever,” Luna said. “They must have had a Springer Titan design it so no one unknowledgeable would notice.” Hermione resisted rolling her eyes and continued.  
“Blood seals are notoriously difficult to create, and to have done it to you as a baby is astounding. I knew everyone said your parents were brilliant, Harry, but this is genius-level advanced magic.”  
“There must be something amazing inside,” Ron uttered in awe.  
“Whatever the case, I’ll give it a go,” the young Potter decided. He took the book back, pulled in a breath, then pressed his finger to the innocuous notch. “Ouch! It bit me!” He tried to pull his thumb away, but found he couldn’t.

The bright red trailed down the depression that ran along the side. The groove split and deepened, forming a series of runes all around the golden helm. The blood trail ended once it pooled into a pair of eyes.

The tome was engulfed in brilliant green and gold light that made everyone cover their faces.

When it died down, Harry was finally able to pull away. The cover flipped open and gold lettering in a calligraphic style appeared on the front page:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY  
HARRY JAMES POTTER

Everyone gathered around Harry to see what was happening. The next page flipped on its own to reveal a picture of James and Lily. They were next to each other and holding hands.

“It’s my parents!” His green eyes teared up at the sight. While Harry had mixed feeling about his father due to having experienced Professor Snape’s memories, part of him was still glad to see him looking well and alive alongside his mother.  
“They look so happy,” remarked Hermione.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Lily congratulated.  
“Happy Birthday, son,” James followed. “By now you’ve grown into a fine adult from our little 4-monther. You’re probably wondering why we made this unusual book.”  
“There are things we’ve kept from you, dear,” Lily stated with what appeared to be some reluctance. “We don’t know the circumstances of the time when you’re receiving this, but we’re going to assume we’re not in the room to answer your questions. Please hold on until the end.”

Harry’s mouth was dry and he was barely keeping the tears in check. He knew from the vagueness of that statement that they weren’t sure they were going to survive the war. Both Ron and Hermione squeezed his shoulders, and Luna placed her hand atop his.

James and Lily gazed to each other a moment before looking back at him. “Harry,” Lily started, her voice trembling, “I’m not your birth mother.” Everyone gasped, even Luna was flabbergasted by that. “You were an unexpected gift to us after we…after we found out we couldn’t have children.”  
“Your mother and I had a bit of a rough patch when we found out, and we separated for a several months. During that time I had met someone, and well, let’s just say all parties involved were surprised by the results.”  
“Don’t be craven and tell him properly,” Lily demanded. James looked ashamed. “Due to circumstances, you weren’t safe in your birth parent’s home, and you were brought to us.” She squeezed James’s hands, the man swallowed.  
“Your birth parent is from a race called Jotnar, it seems they’re arctic giants.”

“What?!” Harry never had a reason to assume he was anything more than human before now. This was as much of a surprise as finding out that Lily wasn’t his biological mother.  
“Jotnar are beautiful with snow white hair and ice blue skin,” Luna commented. “How lucky for you.” Harry didn’t bother questioning why she knew that, she was Luna Lovegood—the woman who knew more magical creatures, that may or may not be real, and outlandish things than Hermione could keep up with.

“You’ll learn more on the next page,” James said before the book did just that.

The parchment contained the picture of a tall, elegant person with long black hair and pale skin like a porcelain doll. Shocking, bright green, almond-shaped eyes filled with sharp intellect stared out at them. Expensive green and gold robes were draped over the lean, almost willowy form. Harry immediately wondered if they were in Slytherin.

“Golly, is that your mom?” Ron questioned, as if bedazzled. “She’s gorgeous.” Hermione elbowed him.

“Vali, I am Loptr,” greeted a distinctly male voice, “your birthing parent.” Everyone but Luna’s jaw dropped at the unexpected reveal.  
“He’s one of the shapeshifters then,” Luna informed. “Some jotun can do that.”

“As you were doubtlessly informed, you are of Jotnar stock. When you were born I sealed that side of you away for your protection, but around now that seal will be fading. I’ll find you when that happens. Keep alive, would you.”

The page flipped over as soon as the man Loptr was done talking. Instead of another picture, a gold pendant on a brown leather cord was revealed. Engraved on the shiny surface was the same insignia that was on the book cover. Then more calligraphy appeared below the necklace.

TO VALI  
WEAR IT

“What do you think it does? Is Vah-lee supposed to be your name? You don’t really think that bloke is your mother, do you?” Ron’s quick fired questions had Harry’s head spinning.

The boy-who-lived hadn’t lived a normal life by any means, but he had finally gotten used to being an adult in the post-war wizarding world. This message was telling him he wasn’t who he thought he was, that his identity was some stranger hidden away.

He slammed the book shut.

“Harry?” Hermione squeezed his shoulder in concern. “We don’t think any different of you,” she assured.  
“What if I change?” He stared hard at the tome and it’s depiction of a gold helm. “What if, when the spell wears off, I change into someone else—something else?”  
“You’ll still be our best mate, Harry,” Ron’s responded. The women both echoed their agreement.  
“We went through the horrors of Voldemort together,” Hermione added. “We’re not leaving now.”

“You’re going to be a beautiful jotun,” Luna commented with a thoughtful smile. Harry wasn’t completely sure how to feel about that, but he knew she was trying to comfort him like Ron and Hermione.  
“Um, thank you?”

He stared down at the text again. Lily wasn’t his biological mother, but she had loved him as her own anyway. She had loved him unconditionally, and her love was what had protected him from Voldemort when he was young.

“Lily was my mother, not this Loopjah guy,” Harry declared.  
“Loptr,” Hermione corrected. “Harry, I understand your feelings, but I don’t think you can dismiss what the book revealed. And there’s that amulet you were told to wear.”  
“I still don’t think that bloke can be trusted,” the redhead complained. “Who knows what that thing does.”  
“I doubt his mother would be trying to hurt him after all this time, Ron.”

“Lily’s my mother,” Harry interjected.  
“Your birthing parent then,” she changed. “My point is that it’s probably for your protection. He did tell you to stay alive.”

The brunet opened the book to the back. The amulet looked the same.  
After a moment he picked it up to get a good look at it. The gold was lighter in weight than it appeared. He would forget it was on if he did wear it.

“I still say check the spells on it first,” Ron insisted.  
“I would guess,” Luna suddenly said, “that at least one will be a cooling charm. Jotnar are from the coldest of realms.”  
“That makes sense,” Hermione agreed, although her expression clearly said she wanted to know where the blonde had gotten her information. “Loptr wouldn’t know what traits you’ve inherited or to what degree you’ll express them.”

Harry held the necklace up by the leather strap and pointed his wand at it to check for spells. Hermione had a point, it was unlikely that this person was planning to hurt him, but he still wanted to know what he was signing up for so to speak.

A quick enchantment later and Harry thought his mind would blow. There was a cooling charm like Luna had surmised, but there was also a protection spell on a level he had never seen before. It was more complex than the ones on the ancient pyramids that Bill Weasley liked to get into.  
Was this casted by Loptr? Did artic giants have magic like this?

He was honestly in awe. “This is brilliant.” He explained to the others what he saw, and all of their eyes had widen. There was no stopping Hermione from scanning the amulet as well. Her excited squeal could probably be heard through the walls. Ron had to see too, after that.

Luna was looking contemplative, and the young Potter almost missed her quiet mutters. “A jotun wizard? How rare. Is he that one?”

That one? Who did Luna mean, and how did she know so much about this specific subject? Her specialty was magical creatures and beings since she was a wizarding naturalist, but still. “Luna, what are you not telling us?” he finally asked, drawing Ron and Hermione’s attention.  
“It’s not a matter of not telling,” she responded, “but a matter of not knowing. I was reminded of something from a discussion from one liken to myself.”

Harry didn’t want to begin deciphering what she meant by that. He heard a controlled, patient sigh from Hermione. “And that was?” Harry pushed.

“There’s been a trickster in the realms, a shapeshifter with powerful magic. I heard rumor it was a wizard, but I don’t agree, not with them allegedly coming from Asgard."  
“As-what?”  
“Asgard, home of the Aesir,” she elaborated.

As usual, Luna left his and Ron’s heads swimming and Hermione appeared to be nearing the end of her patience. Her cheeks were red from holding back, knowing as they did that Luna meant well, and to her what she was saying made sense. She sometimes forgot that she needed to explain things to the rest of the class.

“How do you know so much, Luna?” Hermione questioned. She had decided to change the line of inquiry in hopes of it being more informative.  
“Family reasons.”

They could only assume she meant her father, who was the head editor of the wizarding tabloid The Quibbler. The magazine had a better reputation since the war, but it was still mostly known for its odd articles about conspiracy theories and possibly imaginary creatures rather than pertinent news. The addition of articles on rare and fantastic creatures and where to find them, as provided by Luna, probably helped.

It didn’t seem like the blonde planned to elaborate. Hermione set her jaw, which was a clear sign that a rush to the ‘Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures: Being Division’ was in the immediate future. If they couldn’t provide her with the information she was seeking, then it would be off to their underused ‘Department for Little Known Magical Facts and Factoids.’ Harry refused to think of what his friend would do if that also failed to turn up what she wanted.

He stared at the amulet again, once more taking in the image of the helmet with its delicate horns. He wondered if that was because Jotnar had horns. Would he grow horns? His “birth parent” was a shapeshifter apparently, as far as Luna had wagered. Wasn’t that just a Metamorphmagus, like Nymphadora Tonks had been and her son/his godson Teddy Lupin? Was he one, but the ability had been hidden from him?

“Luna, what did you say arctic giants looked like?” His voice was low, he wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer.  
“Hair like snow and skin blue like glacial ice, eyes are red like rubies, most are big, and other features can vary.”  
“Like horns?” he pressed.  
“Sometimes, there are all kinds of Jotnar. Horns, tusks, claws, sometimes nothing much in particular.”

“Horns might look good on you,” Ron pipped in. “But George may have some jokes for that.” Harry hadn’t meant to, but he had found that funnier than it probably was and guffawed hard enough that his glasses nearly flew off. He could hear the older redhead right now, could see his ridiculous grin as he chanted ‘horny Harry.’ He sobered a bit when he then imagined what Fred would have done in turn. It still hurt that the Weasely twin had died in the war.  
“Yeah, he would.”

He used both hands to spread open the leather cord. “I owe it to so many to keep living. They died for me. They died for the hope I represented.” Luna nodded, and Ron and Hermione somberly held hands. “I owe it to everyone to stay alive.”

He slipped the necklace on.


	2. Loki and Forever

“LOKI!”

The roar of a certain God of Thunder could be heard throughout the cave system, followed by the clashing and sparks from metal tangling in a punishing dance of strikes and blocks. The flashes were the only light beside the glowing foxfires that blanketed some of the stone surfaces.

Thor rained down with the brute force of his hammer Mjolnir against his brother’s staff that was doing a grand job of deflecting his blows. Loki was in top form today, which made it clear how much he wanted the artifact that had been hidden deep in the bowels of the underground cavern. Said artifact was wrapped around Loki’s left wrist, glinting dully in the haunting light. The Avengers weren’t completely certain what the crystal-laden item could do, but if Loki wanted it then it was bad news.

The other Avengers held back, sitting on pillars and stalagmites. There was no telling how fragile their surroundings were or what traps the trickster prince had set in the dark below their feet and beyond the reach of the bioluminescence.

“C’mon, Thor, beat his puny ass,” shouted Hawkeye. They were words to rile Loki up, to force him to make a mistake because of his temper, but the green-clad Jotun didn’t take the bait. His focus was sharp, his magic wrapped tightly around him like a cloak to give him power against the golden Asgardian’s blows.

That worried Thor. His adopted brother liked to fight wits more than he cared for physical confrontation, but the other man had hardly spoken a word since they arrived. No gloating, no names, nor curses. It was strange and made the Thunderer wary of what was to come.

Loki changed directions and leaped away, balancing himself on one of the many ledges while holding his defensive stance.

“What are you—” The question was cut off by a shout from Iron Man and a loud rumbling that shook the cavern.  
“We have an incoming from below!”

Moments later a gargantuan snake shot up and curved to settle behind Loki, a bright green eye that had to be a foot across staring the group of heroes down. The dark god jumped onto the top of its head, giving the scaled hide a pat. “Good boy, let’s go. There’s no time.”

And like that, the pair dove deeper into the darkness.

Iron Man flew over and knelt on the ledge. “I can’t track them in here, there’s too much interference.”

“What the hell was that?” demanded Hawkeye, making his way to the main platform with the others. “Since when did he have a pet snake the size of a fucking train?”

“He wasn’t himself,” Captain America commented, walking over to Thor. “Did you notice anything from your brother?”  
“You’re correct, my friend,” Thor responded. “My brother was not himself. His poisoned tongue was silent, and his magic unapparent. I have never known him to battle in such a manner.”

Black Widow was standing by Iron Man, sharp eyes searching for possible clues. “Obviously he was biding his time. You really have no idea what that bracer was?”

“I didn’t get a good look at it, but… it looked like the crystals I’ve seen the Dwarves use in amulets of anti-magic protection. It’s not the kind of item Loki would take interest in.” The blond couldn’t think what Loki would want a protection charm for. The man’s magic was normally enough against magical offenses, and obviously it wasn’t for physical protection as it had laid dormant during their spar. “His serpent also has me wary of its origin.”

“About that,” Iron Man said, turning to face the blond, “you mentioned some prophecy involving a snake before.”  
“Jormungand, the Midgar Serpent, who is prophesized to be my end.”  
“Oh shit, was that it?” The archer looked over the edge now, but there wasn’t anything but darkness. “Is Loki trying to make that happen?”  
“No, I cannot believe Loki would go so far as to cause Ragnarok,” Thor argued. “It would be as detrimental to him as it would the whole of Asgard and the other realms.”

“Just keep it in mind is all I’m saying,” the bowman quipped.

 

~*Chapter 2: Loki and Forever*~

 

Things like Ragnarok and the destruction of Asgard were the last things on Loki’s mind. The God of Mischief had other concerns and not much time to put all of the necessary factors and components into play. He was able to help Jormungand sneak away for a time, but if they weren’t swift the Midgardian guards would realize their charge was missing and an illusion was in his place.

It pained Loki that he had to send his son back into that dark piece of hell because Odin feared the serpent for simply being.

A gentle hiss caught his attention, and he patted the large head over one of the spiny eye ridges. “It’s not your fault. We’ll find a way to free you permanently, you just need to keep practicing.” It amazed him how Odin could be so shortsighted, believing that because Jormungand took the form of a serpent that it meant he hadn’t inherited his sire’s magic.

But first he had to see to Vali. Of his surviving children, Vali was the most in danger of Odin’s wrath. He hoped that the Arnbjorg bracer was as powerful as legends claimed.

It felt odd to slip back into Midgar’s wizarding world as the man Loptr. He often forgot that Midgar had this hidden mirror world, hiding the magic of the realm like a child afraid its favorite toy would be snatched away. They weren’t far off, to tell the truth.

His green and gold robes drew attention, but that mattered little. The wizards thought it signified him from the Slytherin House, and it was an impression he could take advantage of when needed.

Loki realized quickly that the wizarding community had changed since he had left his child with the Potters. The war hadn’t been kind to the residents and it was clear there were still patches of their world that needed healing, but they were healing. He would have to investigate the environment Vali had had to endure these twenty years.

His son was wearing the medallion, he could sense the tug from the location spell he had planted on it and followed it faithfully through the twisting streets. That was good. Some protection was better than none, and as long as Odin had no reason to actively search for the boy the Asgardian king would not see him with that cursed all-seeing eye.

The hour was early, and considering the location, Loki could only assume his son was at home asleep. He found a café to order himself a meal, he was famished anyway, and to read through a growing pile of newspapers dating back several months. Perhaps it would be best to catch up on current events before dropping in.

Not an hour later had him running to a bookstore.

The Jotun read all that he could find on the last two decades, paying the store owner a galleon to leave him in peace as he made sense of what was fact from propaganda. Vali was scarred now, a bolt etched across his forehead—an obvious marker of a binding curse. James and Lily had been murdered shortly after he left his child with them. He dismissed most of what he read once Vali had entered the public eye at the tender age of eleven, but the pictures stayed with him. His son’s life had been difficult, like his half-siblings, but he had grown to adulthood and was stronger for it. The most recent picture of him working as an Auror showed that he was healthy and respected in his field. It wasn’t the best scenario, but in the end it wasn’t a bad one.

It still cut him to the core that Vali was another child he could do nothing for and was unable to raise. He had hoped that with James he could have a relatively happy childhood despite the oncoming war, but that went to hell because of this Voldemort bastard who had taken it upon himself to torture his son for years.

If the cursed wizard wasn’t already dead, he’d kill him.

On top of that the boy was married to a redhead. Good taste there. No birth announcements, so no children yet. He wouldn’t mind being a grandfather.

It was well into morning when Loki was finished researching what he could in the bookstore. He would have to find better sources if he wanted to learn more, perhaps in Knockturn Alley, but he needed to see Vali. He really shouldn’t have read for as long as he had.

Loki followed the beacon of the medallion to a tall apartment building. It wasn’t exactly glorious living by any stretch, he wasn’t stepping in there if it wasn’t necessary. Really, did no one teach the boy to have some standards? And what of his mate? He could hardly believe she wanted to live in such a place. It was probably infested with all manner of things, like those obnoxious pixies. He would have to teach his child to have some pride.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. The balcony door opened, and out stepped a young man with a sleek broom.

The breath caught in Loki’s throat. It was different seeing him with his own eyes versus a dingy newspaper or a moving image in a book. He hadn’t thought this part through. What was the best way to approach the boy? He wasn’t being held prisoner like his other children, he was free and his own man. He had a life here with a wife and friends.

Vali flew off, likely to work.

A quick spell had a bird following his offspring, a small mirror showing him everything it saw and heard. He would learn his son’s routine to get a better feel of when it would be best to pop in. He needed Vali to accept the bracer, that meant seeing him when he was in a gracious mood.

And if the universe was feeling gracious, maybe Vali would accept him as his parent, too. Hel certainly didn’t, and Sleipnir was still on the fence. That wasn’t a surprise considering Odin had forcefully taken him away as a colt to be trained as his personal steed. His child, reduced to a steed—a slave.

Loki’s gut churned imagining what Odin would do to a wizard offspring. Hel had been banished to the underworld for having magic, her mind forever twisted from the trauma; Fenrir was chained like a criminal for being a giant, forced to live on the flesh of any who displeased the Asguardian king; and Jormungand trapped in the depths of the realm because of some prophecy that was uttered countless generations before he was ever conceived.

What would Odin do to Vali if he discovered his existence? He was a proven warrior on the battlefield, and he had even fulfilled prophecy. His power would only continue to grow at his young age. Without a doubt, he would be lucky to be murdered. Otherwise he'd end up a slave or prisoner like his remaining half-siblings.

Loki found himself a private spot to hole up in while he spied on his youngest. The bar reminded him of the one he had met James in years before. The man had been dashing and pitiful, a heady combination. He had laughed at the man’s misfortunates and foolishness, then he had showed him what a real good time was like. He may have been more than a bit drunk as well, no wonder he had gotten pregnant.

The Jotun kept to the butterbeer. He needed to be of a clear head to ensure Vali’s survival, as much as he would rather be smashfaced right now.

Green eyes stared at the crystal bracer. Loki had not expected Thor and his band of annoying accomplices to be there. He had been hyperfocused on his mission and had neglected the usual fail safes to get through Midgar’s security unnoticed. It had been stupid on his part, and he had to hope that they wouldn’t pursue the matter far.

Unfortunately, the chances of SHIELD not knowing about the wizarding community was nil.

It did bring up the quandary… what was the relationship between the wizards and SHIELD? There had to be some sort of arrangement in place when citizens of either side ended up in an incident. What with mutants, aliens, other dimensional demons, and what have you skipping around as they wanted these days. Were wizards even aware of mutants? It was amazing how isolated they were able to be, but once their worlds eventually collided the chaos was going to be so much fun to watch.

He almost wanted to make it happen himself.  
Almost.  
Perhaps at a later date.  
It would make a great family activity.

Loki shook the thoughts from his head and left the bar. Maybe his butterbeer had been spiked.

He didn’t see any point in returning to the bookstore and it was doubtful the public library would be of any use either. The wizards needed computers, you could only play so many rounds of Wizards Chess and it had been a while since he logged onto Overwatch.

“Loptr” continued wandering around Diagon Alley, picking up on the current gossip and other going-ons. For the time being their world was at peace. The worst events were in the political arena with the occasional witch or wizard outed as a Death Eater or other Dark Supporter.

Loki snorted his disgust. These humans had magic, but they were still pitiful creatures frightened of their own shadows. That was something James had lacked: Fear. In another lifetime, he could have made a decent match as a mate. The result of Vali seemed to attest to that.

“Did you hear? I heard another of those nasty Death Eaters had been found.”  
“It’s hard to believe that they’re still around. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is definitely dead this time.”  
“Too right. They’re hanging on to a dead man’s legacy.”  
“He was a terrible monster.”

Loki thought to himself on that matter, the Death Eaters. Many of the reports had been contradicting of one another, but it was clear that they had been the personal army of Voldemort. They made him think of the Ku Klux Klan in America with their hidden identities and pureblood this and that—Droll types.

The last thing anyone could accuse him of was bigotry. He had mated a fine stallion, which resulted in Sleipnir after all. Hel, Fenrir, and Jormungand were from the union between him and a lovely giantess. There had been others as well, he wasn’t picky as long as the other party was interesting.  
Hadn’t he heard there was quite the dashing scholar centaur in the Forbidden Forest?

He quickly turned his thoughts away again. That was a set of roads he didn’t need to revisit right now.

Nothing interesting from the bird either. Apparently Vali and his team were researching the old-fashioned way instead of doing legwork or fiddling with ridiculous incantations. Good to know the boy was learned and had some sense, so few witches and wizards had any to speak of.

The sun was setting. Finally.  
He turned away from the bright streets of the main shopping district and travelled onto less populated roads.

No one with the right reputation would be caught in Knockturn Alley, and no one with the wrong reputation worried about being caught. He was much more comfortable in the underbelly of Wizarding Society. It was, oddly, more honest and less stressful.

The White Wyvern hadn’t changed. It was almost comforting for the pub to be the same on the surface, but the magic in the floor and walls were different. There was a new owner. The last one was likely dead, perhaps during the war, perhaps from something unrelated. It didn’t matter as long as the unsavory place still served spicebeer. The spicy brethren of butterbeer would hit the spot better with its sharp undertones.

“I hadn’t expected to see your pretty mug in these parts again,” snickered a familiar voice from a shadowed corner. Exactly where Loki had hoped to find him.  
“Forever, I see you’re still alive.” He looked the middle-aged wizard over from top to bottom. “But I hesitate to say you’re well.” The man was now missing his dueling arm and a leg, and there were signs of torture scars on his broad body. The man called Forever snorted.  
“Well enough. Sit, pretty boy, before the wankers get any brilliant ideas.”  
“Your insolence hasn’t been damaged,” the Jotun commented, but he did take the offered seat. He wanted real information, Forever was the man to see.

A quick spell gave them privacy. “I can guess why you’re here,” Forever started after a long pull of spicebeer. Loki leaned forward, a hand snaking across the table to slide over the wizard’s intact arm. The skin was tanned, much tanner than when they last met years before. How curious.  
“Oh? And what do you think you know?” His voice was silk, but Forever was too seasoned to fall for it.  
“Depends how much you’re paying me to not know,” was the human’s reply. Loki didn’t doubt that he had put together all of the little clues, that he knew the famous James Potter had had a child by someone not his wife, and that someone was somehow Loptr. Maybe he even knew a little of Loptr’s true nature, there were those with the right connections to learn such things. If anyone in Wizarding Society had such connections, Forever was one of them.

“I will pay you to know the right information instead,” Loki replied after a few moments before sitting back in his seat. He knew when seduction was off the table. “There is much I have missed, and I’m dissatisfied with my own research. But if yours dissatisfies me further, I may become, shall we say, disgruntled."

Forever laughed. “Ask, we’ll see if I can satisfy that monster appetite.”

The wording told Loki what he needed: the wizard did know something of his nature. Forever had balls to continue dealing with the Jotun this way, but he doubted the man was afraid to die. He could even be praying for it, but was too prideful to take his own life.  
“Then tell me, my dear Forever, all that you know of one Harry James Potter. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

The wizard held up his one hand, signaling for more drink. This was stronger than the fiery spicebeer, a concoction simply called Liquid Cane. Dark eyes filled with glee and a confident grin stretched thick lips. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Loptr.”

Loki admired his guts. Any other time he would have been tempted to bed the man, alas there were too many important matters to see to that didn’t include his loins. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to like much of what he was about to learn.

It was hours later when Forever had answered Loki on all accounts to his satisfaction. The man’s purse was a great deal heavier, much like the Jotun’s mind. It may not be so easy to convince his child of the truth.

That had never stopped him before, he was the King of Lies. If the truth couldn’t be believed, weaving a falsehood to achieve the same goal was doable. But…

Loki threw his pride out the door and ordered the strongest grog the pub had. For everyone.  
He wasn’t going to be shitfaced alone.

Damn humans and their complicated relationships.

Maybe he’d locate that centaur after all.

~*~

“We’ve tracked Loki to the Wizarding Society of Scotland,” Fury said with his usual serious face. Behind him the monitor had Scotland highlighted with a red circle over a large area.  
“What?” came Hawkeye’s intelligent response. He stuck a finger in his ear as if to unplug it. “I think I misheard you there.”  
“You didn’t mishear a damn thing,” the black man said with a scowl.

“You can’t be serious,” Iron Man complained, snapping his face guard away to stare at the SHIELD commander in annoyance. When he had been invited to the helicarrier for an update on the situation, this was not what he had been expecting. “Wizarding Society of Scotland better be a fan convention for magic geeks.”  
“The Wizarding Society exists in parallel with normal society,” Black Widow explained. “They’re isolationists, and they’re out of our jurisdiction for the most part.”

“You’re serious,” stated Iron Man. “You’re both saying magic, not slight-of-hand hocus pocus alakazam crap, but actual magic is real?” The man made a show of looking around. “Is this an episode of Punked? Candid Camera?”  
“Stop wasting my time, Stark,” growled Fury. “We have an In. I called you three because you have the best chances of blending with that insane place and tracking down our annoying wayward god-awful pain-in-the-ass. Black Widow has been undercover there before, she’ll be in charge of this operation.”

The redhead assassin crossed her arms. “I assume that man will be our point of contact.” It wasn’t a question.  
“Unfortunately this mission is full of pains in my ass,” the commander remarked. “He’ll be here to take you to the entry point in two hours. Get your affairs together before that.”

“Wait,” said Hawkeye. “How are we supposed to blend in? We don’t have magic.”  
“The contact will see to the details,” Fury answered. “He’s a grade-A weirdo, but Doctor Stephen Strange can be trusted.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Want to stay updated on my art and stories?](http://dawneastpoint.deviantart.com/journal/Check-Here-for-my-Updates-638603365)  
>  It'll be two steps because I'm not allowed to mention my personal blog on here.


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